It's difficult for me to picture what home is these days. My adult life has consisted of shuffling from city to city, state to state. Starting from scratch and then picking up where I left off. I've sold everything I've owned twice. I've lost everything I've owned twice. The idea of a home seems a million miles away from the life I live.
Is home a person? A collective of people? A structure? A city? A mood? Ones own self? Where your family is? Where you were happiest?
I long for the idea of home as I was raised to imagine it. Someplace to just be. Someplace comfortable, calming and welcoming. I dream of overstuffed linen cushions, fresh cut garden herbs drying in the kitchen and slippers waiting by the front door. Of furniture I don't have to leave behind. To display the photo of my grandparent's wedding above the fireplace as a constant reminder of where I come from.
The last +ten years I've felt like a visitor everywhere I've been. Rootless. It's time to grow into my own home. I still don't know exactly what that looks like, but I'm ready to be there. //
cover art by benjamin ewing.
Chelsea Spear is an art director and editorial producer in Portland, Oregon.